


The Fear of Falling Apart

by kcanwrite



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Cheating, Divorce, Flashbacks, M/M, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:24:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcanwrite/pseuds/kcanwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Straight up angst, served cold. The undoing of Dan and Phil's marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fear of Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I watched The Last Five Years, and then this happened. I'm sorry.  
> I'm imagining a similar setting to Cathy and Jaime's New York apartment.
> 
> Italics indicate flashbacks.
> 
> I apologize in advance for any tears you may shed.

_Dust billowed from the secondhand sofa cushions as Dan spilled his armful of belongings across them. The apartment was gray and stuffy, but Phil had forced the drapes apart, and the sun shone brightly. Afternoon light broke through the filth-coated curtains and cracked the place in half—one side was bathed in fiery orange and gold like a renaissance on the horizon, and the other cowered in charcoal shadow. The sofa, the only item of furniture that came with their new flat, sat against the wall as far from the sun’s rays as possible. Dan coughed at the dust in the air and stepped over the divide. The sun was warm on his face, and hope surged through him. This was the beginning of the rest of their lives. He rubbed grime from the window pane and watched Phil pull the last few boxes from the car. With a playful grin, Dan rapped on the glass. Phil turned around to wave, wiping sweat from his brow. When Dan blew him a kiss, he giggled and his cheeks flushed pink._

**—————**

They’d been silent, picking at their food for a solid twenty minutes.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.”

Phil slammed his fists on the table. “I am! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Why?” Dan spat in repulsed disbelief. He threw his plate to the floor, letting it burst into a colorful array of mixed vegetables and ceramic shards.

Phil jumped in shock.

“Get out.”

“No,” he whispered, eyes wide.

“Get. Out.”

Phil shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

Dan stood, coiled like a spring and trembling with a flurry of emotions. His eyes filled with tears until Phil was just a blur at the other end of the table. “I don’t care what you want.” Even then, the lie tasted sour on his tongue.

Phil was silent for a moment, gripping the edges of the table they’d built together. He watched his knuckles turn white with the strain. He didn’t want to see Dan cry again. “Please don’t do this to me.” His voice barely broke a whisper.

“To you!” Dan shouted. “To you? What about to me?” He grabbed a fistful of their duvet which lay abandoned on the floor, dragged from their bedroom hours earlier. “What about me?” He shoved the fabric towards Phil’s face until he turned away in shame. “You fucked him in our bed!” His hands shook, and he felt the first tears spill over. “In our bed!” Dan choked out as he tossed the duvet at Phil’s feet. He walked back to his end of the table.

“I didn’t fuck him,” Phil muttered.

The tears were coming hot and fast now, but Dan coughed out a wry laugh. “Oh, well, what do you call it? Platonic cock sucking? Friendly mutual wanking? What the hell was it, Phil? Why don’t you fucking enlighten me, then! Tell me all about what you were doing with another man in our bed!”

Phil shook his head and averted his eyes.

“I said, enlighten me, Phil! Come on. Shout at me! Tell me I’m wrong, and I should forgive you! Scream, damn it!” Dan swept his arm across the table, sending forks and knives flying. “Scream at me!” He bared his teeth, spitting words as he clawed at the table, quickly becoming bare before him. “Beg me for forgiveness! Come on, don’t let me down now, Phil.” Venom dripped from his lips as he taunted Phil, ignoring the tears streaming down both their cheeks. Dan threw his glass at the wall. It hit with a lackluster thump and dropped to the floor unscathed. “Enlighten me!” He screamed. His throat turned raw as the words clawed their way out.

A full minute passed as Dan struggled to catch his breath.

Phil swallowed. “It was nothing.”

“Fuck off,” Dan scoffed, his voice hoarse. “You can do better than that. It wasn’t nothing.”

“It was.”

“Bullshit.” Spit sprayed from his mouth and landed on the table.

Phil lifted his gaze pleadingly. “I love—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Dan rolled his red-rimmed eyes. “Just get out. Get out. I don’t need you here.”

Phil’s lips parted, but he closed them, thinking better of it. He stood from his seat, scraping his chair across the wooden floor.

Just before he closed the door behind him, Phil heard the unmistakable sound of Dan’s knees hitting the floor. He hoped he’d imagined the muffled cry that came after. The click of the lock sucked all the breath from his lungs, and he hid his face from the accusing stare of the night sky. He didn’t make it down their front steps before his body collapsed with all that he had done. He slept there, sick with despair.

Dan found Phil as he was leaving for work. He pretended not to notice him, but he left the door ajar.

**—————**

_“Take me home with you.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Are you married?”_

_He shut him up with a kiss and a mischievous grin._

**—————**

_Dan didn’t remember clocking out of work that day or walking home to his front door, but he did remember every moment after. The second he stepped inside, something was wrong. Someone else’s shoes and belt and button-up shirt were strewn from the welcome mat to the bedroom. He couldn’t see their bed from where he stood, with the setting sun beating on his back and the spoiled smell of home assaulting his front. Something screamed at him to turn around, walk away, and come back later when things felt right. He didn’t listen._

_Suddenly, a moan that had been caressing his ears for seven years spilled from their bedroom. Dan’s heart jumped to his throat and he struggled to breathe around it. He was already drawing up scenarios in which Phil lay alone in their bed when a foreign giggle poured down their hallway and stabbed at his chest. A wave of nausea hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He knew. He had known. He knew._

_Dan fell to his knees before the wastebasket and hurled up his lunch, his afternoon coffee, and dregs of acrid bile. An icy silence shot from the bedroom. Dan heaved again, but nothing came up. His eyes were bloodshot and spilling tears he wished weren’t there. He didn’t want to face him like this—weak. Whispers and creaking floorboards pricked at his ears, and he heaved again._

_Phil was by his side in a moment, rubbing circles across his back and murmuring soft nothings. From the corner of his eye, Dan spied his bare legs and inside out t-shirt. He sobbed this time. Phil pulled him into his arms, pressing Dan’s head to his chest and smoothing his hair. “Shhh,” he whispered. The heartbeat in Dan’s ears didn’t sound like home all of the sudden, and the sobs wracked his body harder. They stayed like that longer than he cared to admit. He hated himself later for it—for needing Phil._

**—————**

Someone had drawn the curtains, letting the morning sun spread through the musty apartment. It split the room in half, illuminating corners that hadn’t seen the light of day in weeks. Specks of dust stirred through the rays in flurries. It should have meant the start of something new, but Dan stayed huddled in his chair on the dimly lit side of the room, unwilling to cross over. His lawyer had passed him a stack of papers ten minutes ago, labelled with little yellow sticky notes telling him to sign here, initial there, and seal his fate here. He’d suffered through to the final page. It stared up at him, the paper darkened with stray tear drops.

“I can’t do this.”

“You can,” his lawyer iterated. Frustration bled through his words.

Dan pinched the pen between his fingers and pleaded with the papers before him, squeezing his eyes shut. _Please, please, please go away. Please, stop being real. Please._ He opened his eyes to the blank space glaring up at him, awaiting his signature. He looked at Phil, sitting across the table from him, stone-faced and cold, defeated.

**—————**

_“I want my life to be with you.”_

_“You don’t.” He giggled with happy disbelief, gaze flickering between Phil and the velvet box in his palm._

_“I do.”_

**—————**

Dan couldn’t sign the papers. He tossed the pen away like it burned, wincing when it clacked against the table.

Phil’s expression twitched with bewilderment, but he forced himself to regain his stiff composure.

Dan dragged his fingers over his face and drew a ragged breath. “I can’t not need you, Phil.” His voice was raw, and tears threatened to fall again. “I need you. I need you all the time.”

Phil gave a curt nod and pressed his lips into a thin line as he stood. He walked around to Dan’s side of the table and retrieved the pen, pressing it into Dan’s left hand and moving to stand behind him. Phil held the pen in place and guided Dan’s hand to the divorce papers. He let the tip hover over the blank space for a moment as Dan trembled. He forced ink to paper. Dan choked out an ugly sob as he scribbled his signature, Phil’s hand fading as he crossed the page. He dropped the pen to the table with a clatter and buried his face in his hands.

“You asked for this.”

Dan let loose an anguished cry.

Phil slipped the papers into a manila folder at the center of the dining table they built together, crossed into the morning light, and walked out.

The click of the lock sucked all the breath from Dan’s lungs, and he crumbled.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find this fic on my tumblr at earthtowhiskers.
> 
> Again, sorry about your feelings. Here, have some tissues, and leave a comment below.


End file.
